A Grudge is Borne
by One Shot Gun Shot Loz
Summary: A Narcissa & James tale, which we don't see nearly often enough! Sinister twist-fun bit of reading for those who like an original concept-intended to be a one-shot story, but feel free to ask for more. Please Review.


A/N: I haven't written a fic in AGES, and maybe over the summer hols which are advancing very quickly, I will have time to at last continue with the Governess of Azkaban- but for the moment, here's a fun little snippet of Hogwarts fiction!  
  
Please review- my writing muscle is not getting flexed as much as it should, and I feel a little out of practise!  
  
Disclaimer: I am JK Rowling, so everything here is mine. Ha flamin' ha.  
  
A Grudge is Borne.  
  
"Stop, stop!" Narcissa laughed, smiling at his naïve fumblings in the dark "I know I'm beautiful, but you can wait until we get into a room can't you?"  
  
James smiled coquettishly at her, looking up into her big blue eyes. She was almost 2 years older than him, but was every bit as wild. He loved the way she still managed to maintain some air of dignity every time; that she was first a lady, but foremost a tramp. He grabbed her wrist and gently tugged her along to a classroom nearby, and having stuck his head around the door to check it was empty, he pulled her inside. Her face was so perfect, just perfect. He still had to mentally pinch himself whenever she gave him a sly smile across the great hall, or a wink as they passed in the corridors, but this, this was just unreal. To have her here, with him, only him, was all he could think about. His grades had made a noticeable dip in recent months, but nothing was said. H was still top of the class. In his own mind, he didn't care, though. He was on top of the world.  
  
"So.now what?" she laughed, and leant against one of the hardwood workbenches that was in the room. The whole place had a very grand feel, but a very unloved feel to. Furniture was wrapped in big sheets, and cobwebs bristled slightly from the candelabras and chandeliers in the smallest of breezes. She loved it. Just perfect for an illicit rendezvous with her new."interest".  
  
Narcissa had always adored romance, and James, though two years younger than her, believed in giving a woman the time of her life. He may not have been the most handsome, but he was certainly not bad looking; he may not have been the best lover, but again, he wasn't without his "charms"! But he was the most chivalrous of any boy at Hogwarts, and she was besotted with the way he made her feel, and how he treated her like the centre of his universe. She could see it in his eyes when they passed in the halls, or when they made eye-contact across a crowd, he wanted to acknowledge her more publicly, he wanted the world to know what he felt for her, but they both knew that was not possible. They knew it on that first night in his Gryffindor rooms, and they knew it now; they were sentenced to silence. Neither of them was single, or planned on being in the near future; it seemed so wrong to be doing what they were doing, and yet, so right.  
  
Suddenly, she realised she had been staring into space for quite a few minutes. James had checked the room over, lit the dusty candles, and bolted the door, and was just staring at her with his usual, lopsided grin. The flickering flames cast funny shadows on his face in the musky air, and made his grape-green eyes dance like willow trees in the wind. She smiled back, and gently hopped herself onto the desk she had been leaning on. He walked slowly over to her, and gently looped their fingers together, resting his forehead on hers. His messy black hair hung limply just before her eyes, so she stroked it gently out of the way.  
  
"I want to see you" she cooed gently, "as well as I can."  
  
He gave a small chuckle, and leant forward to kiss her. He was so close to her now he could smell her hair, her perfume, just her. Their lips were barely touching, when they heard a clatter outside. Narcissa didn't pull away, but she tensed, and broke her eye contact with him, looking over and beyond his shoulder to the door.  
  
"Shhh," he murmured, turning her head back to face him softly with the tip of his fingers "It's nothing. We're completely alone."  
  
He stroked her long, silvery hair, and followed the lines of her defined cheekbones through the tresses that she always pushed back behind her ears, but always seemed to escape, and cascade down her shoulder like the finest satin. She looked back at him doubtfully, but after only moments of his soothing movements, she smiled again, and cupping his face in her hands, she pulled him towards her again.  
  
Again, there was a noise outside.  
  
James wheeled around quickly, flicking her delicate fingers with his unruly hair. He stepped to the door, and put his ear up against it. Nothing. HE slowly, deftly lifted the bolts off the door, opened it as little as possible, and peered out. Nothing. He stepped out into the corridor, and looked up and down for anything, but there was nothing. He shrugged, and went back inside, and bolted the door again. Narcissa looked nervous, and had jumped off the bench. She was wringing her hands, a terrible nervous habit that James noted she had, which was nearly always accompanied by the worried look that now adorned her immaculate features.  
  
"No one's there, I checked everywhere. It's probably just a ghost.or it might just be the castle- you know what this place can be li."  
  
"I know," she said softly "I know, but.."  
  
"But nothing." he said, kissing her forehead "We're alone, and I don't plan on any more inter-"  
  
Another noise, much louder. Narcissa looked panic-stricken. James wasn't feeling to good about this either.  
  
"I think we should go." She whispered quickly  
  
"Me too. Come on" James murmured, and with a swish of his wand, the candles were out once again. They checked for any signs of life, and then quickly made their way down the corridor, pausing to say goodbye with the briefest of kisses, and parted like strangers in the night.  
  
Five minutes after they had gone, Lucius stepped out of the shadowy doorway of another classroom. That Potter was a simple fool, and had bitten off more than he could chew, stealing a girl from a Malfoy. And that slut. That brazen little *hussy*. Well, she would pay. And so would he. Lucius made sure he had given both of them time to make it back to their dormitories. He looked at his pocket-watch. Five to Nine. He chuckled malevolently as he stalked off into the dark and labyrinthine halls of the the school, wondering where he might find a certain Lily Evans. 


End file.
